none yours

does it not cut deep -

this love that is pillow dents,

once eroded into the fabric,

now lifting from the bed?

this love,

it removes their shape,

erased by morning,

their scent thinning until the air

forgets it ever knew?

this love that is music removed -

absent, stolen,

swallowed by a quiet so cursed

the room still hums

this love,

a painting scrubbed clean,

an image thought memorized,

now dissolving at the edges

memory loses its grip one sense at a time

does it not cut deep -

this grief without a body,

this love that moves like loss,

none yours?

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none yours - Hello Poetry